Antiquity
by movieholic
Summary: "My hand at causing your affliction wounds me gravely, dear sister."


It was rarely seen when Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley would visibly lose his temper; it was inconceivable to even imagine he would ever do so with his beloved sister, Georgiana. However, this was how his soon to be betrothed found him. His blue eyes, darkened a shade, were gleaming wet with unshed tears. His broad shoulders trembled as he towered over his golden-haired sibling as the pink, full lips that made up his luscious mouth quivered.

Elizabeth watched from around the corner of the darkened, unused hall of Pemberley. Placing a hand tentatively on the stone wall to support her weight, she risked a peek and continued to watch in a trance.

Darcy's low, and usually gentle voice carried down the unlit hall and into his fiance's ears. "I've told you many, many times Georgiana! We. Do. Not. Speak. Of. Them." He ground out each word in such a way that it seemed to pain him. "Nor do we gallivant the halls in search of them! They are ghos-No. They are _demons_, Georgiana. Do you understand me?"

There was a pause, filled with Darcy's harsh breathing and Georgiana's failing attempts to quell her tears. Darcy took no mercy, but instead took a step forward. "Do you _understand_?"

Elizabeth waited for the younger woman's answer with bated breath. Georgiana's reply was so soft that she nearly missed it. "Yes, Fitzwilliam, I understand."

Darcy took a step back, as if he was just stung, and bowed his head. "Good, good," he replied quietly. He glanced at his whimpering sister and released a suffering sigh. "Oh," he gasped. He quickly stepped forward, wrapped his arm around the smaller frame of Georgiana, and pulled her into his chest. "I'm so sorry, Georgiana, I am so very sorry. My hand at causing your affliction wounds me gravely, dear sister. But..but..." he trailed off, resting his chin on the top of her head as he gazed out a stained glass window across from him.

Elizabeth, finding herself quite uncomfortable, pushed herself away from the wall and clambered down the steps as quietly and quickly as possible. She had no idea as to what had just occurred, however she knew with certainty she would confront Darcy on the matter later.

It was not long after his conversation with Georgiana did Mr. Darcy find Elizabeth lounging in the parlor with another thick novel in her hands. He made his way over to the corner where she sat, drawing himself up short when he noted that the novel was not raised to her eyes for reading, but lying in her lap forlornly.

"Elizabeth, my pearl, is something the matter?" he questioned cautiously, his blue eyes wide and wondering, like that of a curious child.

Elizabeth, without turning to face Darcy, answered rhetorically, "Is it Sunday already? My, time flies by so quickly."

Bemused, Darcy took another step forward. "Why, yes, it is Sunday." He studied her carefully, unable to decipher her mood from her relaxed posture or her glowing brown eyes. "Lizzy, is something the matter?" he repeated.

Elizabeth turned her head to look at him. Her expression was neither pleased nor cross, confusing poor Darcy further. "No, Mr. Darcy, I cannot think of a thing that could hinder my mood at this very moment."

Darcy, unable to feel fully relieved due to her seemingly detached tone of voice, nodded. He cocked his head to the side slightly. "I assure you my dear Lizzy, that as compelled as you may feel, you needn't waste such perfect breath on useless formalities." He cleared his throat uncomfortably at his fallen jest, before adding, "You mustn't be in a good mood when your formidable adversary pokes fun with no endeavor at a response in return."

Elizabeth's head, once again facing the window she was sitting near, whipped around. "'Formidable adversary?'" she nearly cried, although in annoyance or joy Darcy was unsure of. He was beginning to feel like a drowning man. "_Mr_. Darcy, I'm afraid you confused me with someone much brighter than I."

Darcy, taken aback at her response, lowered his gaze and murmured the first thing on his mind. "If one was as bountiful in beauty as they were in intelligence...then you would be the _most_ stunning creature alive."

There was a brief silence before Elizabeth met his gaze and whispered, "So, now I am a creature?"

Mr. Darcy paused, as though choosing his next words carefully. "May I ask...have I offended you in anyway? For I cannot recall any misdeed I have done in order to gain such unwanted, hostile incivility."

Elizabeth nearly sprung out of the chair she had sat in, tossing her book behind her. Darcy had enough good sense to step back. He watched as her eyes darken dangerously in undisguised anger. She proceeded on with a growl, "Perhaps you can explain to me your 'unwanted, hostile incivility' to poor Georgiana?"

Once more taken aback, Darcy furrowed his dark brows and demanded in a haughty manner, "I beg your pardon?"

"Surely a man such as yourself can remember the precise moment you brought your own sister to tears?" She paused briefly before adding, "Your _sister_," in a stressed tone.

"Ah," Darcy offered in realization. Then his blue eyes lit up and his body stiffened. "Eavesdropping once again, I see."

Refusing to change the subject, Elizabeth took another step forward and resisted the urge to poke a finger in her soon to be husband's chest. "Dare I ask why you were so unkind to such an innocent child? Your sister?"

Darcy, too, took a step forward. They were so close that they could feel each others breath upon their faces. "It is no matter of yours, believe me."

Elizabeth gawked at Darcy, as if the very idea that it was not her problem as well was absurd. "Of course it is," she claimed. "She is my very close friend, and your-"

"Sister," Darcy interrupted angrily, adding, "I know." He closed his eyes and continued slowly, "And seeing as she is my sister, as you've been so kind to remind me one to many times," his eyes flew open, "Perhaps you should mind your own, Miss Bennett."

Elizabeth took a shaky breath and nodded, not trusting her own voice and the horrid words that may spill out. She took a step back and brushed past Darcy angrily, slamming the door behind her fleeing body. Darcy stood stock still and took a deep breath.

"What just happened?" he asked himself softly, his eyes fixated on the floor.

Soft crying, accompanied by breathy hiccups, caused Elizabeth to come to an abrupt stop. She cautiously tiptoed to the door she suspected the abating crying came from, and pressed her ear against it gingerly. A brief thought of her "eavesdropping again" gave her a slight pause before she pressed her ear more firmly against the polished wood.

Confirming that it was Georgiana, and quite unsure if she was sure it really was her, Elizabeth knocked softly and let herself in. "Georgiana? May I enter?"

The young blond looked up quickly from where she sat, her chin resting on her knees. "Lizzie?"

"I'm here, would you like to speak? I'm a great listener, you know." Elizabeth asked, crossing the room slowly. She studied the younger woman's pink face, tears having stained them with wet tracks.

After a moment, Georgiana nodded slowly and released her bunched legs from her arms. "That would be very kind of you."

Elizabeth smiled reassuringly as she bunched up her dress and settled herself on a seat near her sister-to-be. She brushed a frizzy curl of blond hair off the forehead of the other in an affectionate manner. Georgiana smiled and thanked her quietly.

"Now," Elizabeth said, folding her hands in her lap, "What would you like to speak about?"

With a small sigh, Georgiana questioned sadly, "You heard, didn't you?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "I daresay I did."

"He has every right to be angry, you know." Georgiana tried to defend her brother, her blue eyes wide and clear.

Elizabeth nearly scowled, but reeled in her temper. "No husband, brother, or uncle should ever speak to a woman that way. Especially to someone as the likes of you."

Georgiana smiled once again before saying softly, "We had other brothers." From the puzzled look Elizabeth gave her, Georgiana laughed softly, though without humor. "Of course he didn't tell you, he doesn't want anyone to know. Or remember for that matter."

"What do you mean, you _had _other brothers? What happened to them?" Elizabeth was beginning to dread the answer.

Georgiana looked away, chewing on her bottom lip in a nervous habit. "Well, we had two older brothers...both older than Fitzwilliam by a few years here and there." Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to recall old memories of her brothers. "I hardly remember either of them, Thomas and John, but I remember why Fitzwilliam clearly doesn't want to remember them."

"Why is that, Georgiana?" Elizabeth pressed, curiosity burning in her stomach.

"Well, Thomas committed a horrible act that had caused much disrespect in our family, until John buggered it up more. John was kil-" she stopped short, memories of the dreadful day overwhelming her.

The laughter from Georgiana's informal English died immediately. Elizabeth's eyes went wide with concern, and she nearly sprang from the chair. "Georgiana? Are you alright?"

The younger woman nodded, taking a mouthful of air. "I'm fine, Lizzie, I just finally remembered some more. I finally remembered John...John was murdered."

"I'm so sorry!" cried Elizabeth, wrapping a comforting arm around Georgiana's slender shoulders. "Would you like to stop now?"

"No, no..." she sighed, "I would like to speak of them, I would like for them to be remembered."

After a few silent moments, she spoke up once more. "It was cold that day, the day John died. I remember taking a stroll with Father and Mother of the land, the wind in my hair. Thomas was already dead by then, he killed himself."

Elizabeth tried to stifle a gasp. Suicide? In this time, suicide was so rare. And in a family such as the one of the Darcy's, no less. She urged the other woman to continue.

"Thomas' death was unexpected, but John's...they were both good men. They just wanted nothing to do with the Darcy name. Rebels, they were," she laughed softly in Elizabeth's shoulder. "The lot of them. Fitzwilliam was a good boy, always was, I remember that about him. John and Thomas were teasers, but Fitzwilliam was always my protector."

They both smiled fondly before Georgiana continued. "Thomas was tired of Mother's and Father's way of life, he wanted no part of the family, of the proper etiquette of life expected of us. So he, he hung himself in the stable. Father took it down, not long after, but there is a new one now."

Elizabeth nodded, silent.

"John was as bad as Thomas," she sighed, "But he didn't want to die. He was so young, Tom too. Both no more than twenty years. But his death hit everyone the hardest, especially Fitzwilliam. William," she sighed, her voice breaking, "William saw John killed in front of his very own eyes, and he was no more than eight years. A little boy."

Elizabeth gasped loudly, clutching the smaller frame of Georgiana underneath. "Lord, why was John killed?"

"John was a gambler, much like-like some men we know."

Wickham.

"He owed money, a lot of it. And rather than ask Father, for pride and arrogance, he let himself be killed by these men. But Fitzwilliam, he envied his elder brothers. They had fun, they were carefree, they didn't live under the thumb of Mother and Father...so he followed John everywhere."  
"And he followed John on the day he was killed, the poor soul." murmured Elizabeth, tears in her eyes. "What happened then? To Darcy?"

Georgiana sighed. "I was only a few years of age, maybe two or three...from what I remember he reigned himself in. Studied hard, spoke not a word to anyone unless it was demanded...when Mother and Father passed, he got rid of everything that reminded him of any of them. Mother, Father, Thomas, John...portraits, and the such. Which is why he was upset; I found where he hid them, and questioned him about them..."

"And he lost his temper," Elizabeth whispered. She suddenly felt sick.

"I shouldn't have, he told me not to. They were exiled. They do not exist."

"'They are demons?'" Elizabeth quoted questioningly.

"Yes, demons. Ghosts."

A silence infiltrated the darkening room, neither women uttering a word. Rather, they enjoyed the company of the other in the comforting quiet.


End file.
